


more than just romantic

by intertwiningwords



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Sappy, smoking weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: connor and miguel have had their first kiss, and now it's time to figure out what that means.
Relationships: Miguel/Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)





	more than just romantic

**Author's Note:**

> "And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe."  
> \- Daniel Howell
> 
> wrote this months ago in my notebook during class and just got around to finishing it up lol, i hope you enjoy

“Did you know that you were my first kiss?   
Connor looked up from the joint that he was attempting (and, kind of failing) to roll. “Really?”

Miguel nodded. “Well, a girl in my kindergarten class kissed me on the playground once, but that doesn’t really count.  _ You _ counted.”

Blushing, Connor abandoned his messy rolling job and opted instead to stare at the other boy in flustered surprise.

“What about you?”

“You were the first. Ever, not just the one that counted,” Connor replied honestly.

Miguel grinned. “That’s cute.”

Connor chuckled, ducking his head. “Finish rolling this shit, my hands are too shaky,” he said, hoping to change the subject away from his cuteness (or, in his opinion, lack thereof).

“Sure thing.”

The two boys sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Miguel making quick work of finishing the joint, then proudly displaying it between two fingers. 

“First hit for my first kiss?” he offered.

Connor accepted it, his cheeks still stained pink.

They had kissed two days earlier, a messy and unexpected peck on the lips as a goodbye, followed by another, deeper and more confident. They had both avoided bringing it up during the next school day, but now, over the weekend, in Connor’s bedroom, Miguel had dared to bring it up and break the ice, relieving some tension, yet at the same time, creating some too.

Connor placed the joint between his lips, fumbling for the lighter.

Miguel’s hand found it first, clicking on the flame and lighting the end for him, holding his gaze as smoke began to rise between them.

Inhaling deeply, Connor relished the way the weed burned his throat and lungs, then exhaled slowly, watching the cloud dance between their faces as if taunting them with how little space there was keeping them apart.

Brown eyes sparkling with something like curiosity, Miguel parted his lips.

_ Fuck it _ , Connor thought.

He leaned forward and closed the gap between them, kissing Miguel, and it took only a split second until Miguel was kissing him back.

When they pulled away, Miguel laughed. “You taste like bud.”

Connor giggled, too. “And whose fault is that?”

“Congrats on seducing a dealer, Murphy; you smoke free for  _ life _ .”

“That’s just an added bonus.”

The forgotten joint regained his attention as a clump of ashes dropped onto his bedsheets, and Connor swore softly, passing it to Miguel, who took a generous hit. Batting away the offending ashes, Connor’s stomach was doing happy flips, the kind he assumed you got on rollercoasters, something he couldn’t remember feeling in a long time.

“What are you smiling about?” Miguel asked, smirking.

Connor shrugged. “I’m just...happy, I guess.”

Miguel’s expression instantly softened into a sweet smile. “Yeah, me too.”

They passed the joint back and forth, no longer bothering to apologize when their fingers brushed. The joint burnt out eventually, and they laid back against Connor’s bed.

They were both experienced smokers with decent tolerances, but both boys felt high anyway, perhaps for a different reason.

“Do your parents know?” Miguel asked.

“Know what?”

“That you like guys.”

Connor snorted. “They couldn’t even tell you my favorite color, forget my sexuality. Yours?”

“My mom knows, she’s cool with it, but my dad is the one who might not take it too well, so I’m putting it off as long as I can.”

Connor bit the inside of his cheek, not sure what to say. “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. So, what  _ is _ your favorite color?”

“Purple. What about you?”

“Yellow. Do you have a favorite book?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise.”

“It’s  _ The Little Prince _ .”

“That’s adorable.”

“Shut up. What’s yours?”

“ _ Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe _ .”

“That’s a mouthful. What’s it about?”

“It’s about this Mexican boy named Ari and his best friend Dante, and it’s just kind of a coming of age with lots of introspective shit, and queer romance, and all that good stuff.”

“That sounds really cool.”

“Wanna borrow it sometime?” Miguel offered.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Turning over onto his side, Miguel’s nose was practically pressed to Connor’s cheekbone.

“Ask me a question this time,” Miguel said softly.

“Have you ever been in a relationship before?” Connor asked.

“No, not really.”

“Not one that counted?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Exactly,” Miguel laughed. “You?”

“No, never.”

Connor had barely had any solid friendships before he met Miguel, let alone a romantic relationship. He wasn’t even sure he’d had many crushes before, at least, ones that weren’t on fictional characters or celebrities. Besides, who would be interested in him? The kid who threw a printer at Ms. G in second grade, who was always throwing tantrums and sitting by himself on the playground—

“Really?”

Connor couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “Yeah, really. Why?”

Miguel shrugged. “I just thought you might have been in one before. It’s hard to believe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean...Look at you! You’ve got such pretty eyes, and a nice smile—”

Connor’s face burned. “How high did you get?”

“High enough to say my sober thoughts out loud,” Miguel replied.

Connor turned his face so that his nose touched Miguel’s. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” Miguel said. “You’re beautiful, Connor.”

And Connor kissed him again. The urge was almost overwhelming, a rush of affection flooding him for the boy beside him. Yes, Miguel was his friend. His best friend, but also, like, his only friend, so did the “best” truly count? But friends didn’t act this way. Friends didn’t kiss. Or, at least, Connor figured. It wasn’t like he had much experience to base it off of.

Miguel kissed him back, one hand touching Connor’s cheek, thumb stroking along his jaw so tenderly, it made Connor want to weep. No one had ever treated him with such sweetness, and he wasn’t sure what to do, so he just kept kissing him, hoping the action spoke louder than any words he could muster on the subject.

And for the first time in a long time, Connor felt loved. The first time he felt  _ liked _ . And safe.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed!! if you did please consider leaving me kudos or a comment, it makes my day :) xo


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